Kisses Like Fire
by SilverStarsAndMoons
Summary: Four drabbles about Emma/Terri. Ranges from fluff to implied smut to angst. Exploring the dynamics of the redhead and icy blonde.


**Bath**

Emma had a compulsive need to be clean – almost obsessive, though less so since she started therapy. Still, every night she would strip off her clothing and climb into a warm bath, often soaking for close to an hour before Terri would knock on the door, desperate to use the washroom or even to just see her girlfriend.

When Emma started inviting Terri to bathe with her, Terri's annoyance dissipated. Lying there in the warm water, cradled in her girlfriend's arms, she would turn in the large bathtub, resting her chin on the redhead's chest, staring up into her chestnut eyes.

Sometimes, she'd work her fingers under the water, feeling Emma's slick skin against her wet fingers, feeling the redhead's sharp intake of breath when Terri hit just the right spot. Emma would tip her head back, hair fire in the water, and the crack in her voice would be amplified by the acoustics in the bathroom.

After, Emma would take the time to drop a small kiss on Terri's nose. There were no other words said.

There didn't need to be.

**Sleep**

It bothered Emma that Terri never seemed to sleep. It wasn't surprising to find her up at four in the morning, gluing things painstakingly together or embroidering the latest in a long line of samplers for the bedroom.

Emma would rub her eyes, murmur, "Why are you still up?"

"Never mind, couldn't sleep. Go to bed. You have to work tomorrow."

Emma knew not to argue with Terri, especially when she has a glue gun in her hand, but she'd pout concernedly.

"You're not sleeping at all lately. And frankly, I miss my sweet girlfriend. Please come to bed."

"Mind your own business, Emma."

Emma would crawl back into bed, but she'd lie awake until Terri's warm body settled beside her again. It kept happening for over two weeks before Emma finally had enough.

She walked into the craft room and sat down beside Terri, who was concentrating hard on the Christmas village she was gluing together.

"I'm not sure why you're not sleeping, Terri, but you need to at least try. Enough is enough."

Instead of snapping back, though, as Emma expected, Terri's lower lip began to tremble. Emma began to stroke Terri's long blonde hair, watching as the blonde's cerulean blue eyes began to fill with tears.

"Shhh. Oh, baby, you're so tired," she murmured, kissing Terri's hair and forehead and nose and cheeks. Normally, she wouldn't dare to be so affectionate – Terri prefers cuddling on her own terms, not Emma's – but Terri was so tired tonight that she practically melted into her girlfriend's arms.

They lay in bed together, Terri's face pressed into Emma's shoulder, her arms tightly around the redhead, and Emma rubbed Terri's back, little circles that soothed the blonde and caused her to relax in Emma's arms.

When Terri's breathing finally smoothed out, Emma lay back on her pillow and cradled her sleeping girlfriend, happy she finally stopped fighting sleep.

**Balloons**

Emma hates her birthday, but Terri doesn't care. If there's something Terri does best, it's putting together special occasions, and she had Emma's favourite flowers ready, the table set, and dinner cooking in the oven by the time Emma walked through the door.

Terri likes to watch Emma when she comes home – she deconstructs little by little from the prim and proper guidance counsellor to Terri's rumpled, cuddly, very sweet girlfriend who doesn't care if she isn't wearing the right shoes and likes nothing better than to put on her softest, oldest flannel pajamas and relax with a cup of tea (or as Terri prefers, a glass of wine).

She hears Emma's sigh, hears her take off her shoes and rub her feet along her legs. The three-inch heels that Emma favours really tend to hurt her feet, and Terri plans to end this night with a foot massage.

Emma walks into the room and freezes dead, her hands coming up to her face.

"What's this?"

Terri shakes her head happily. "Happy birthday!" She flicks the lighter, lighting the candles on the table. Emma's eyes follow the movement, looking confused.

"Oh, Ter . . . um, thanks. I'm just . . ." and with that, Emma's face begins to crumple. She sits down on the edge of the couch, the tears beginning to drip through her fingers.

Terri is understandably annoyed. "What could possibly be the matter? This is a nice surprise!"

Emma sniffles, her hands still over her face. "I know, I appreciate it." She coughs a little, her face tearstained. "Thank you."

"Nice way to show it," huffs Terri, but she comes over to put her arms around her girlfriend. "What, baby?"

"I just . . . hate my birthday. I just do. It's not a fun occasion and I have never had fun, and I just prefer to ignore it completely."

Terri rubs Emma's shoulders. "Well, we could do that, or we could make this a good birthday so that you start realizing that birthdays are actually fun days."

Emma sniffles against Terri, saying nothing, and Terri smiles. "The dairy farm incident doesn't have to happen every birthday. Just saying."

Emma nods. "I know."

Terri lets go of Emma, going around the couch to pick a colourful bunch of Mylar balloons. "See? I got the tulip-shaped ones, because I know you love tulips."

Emma manages a smile. "You always seem to know what I want," she remarks, and Terri grins.

They eat dinner, Emma's smile growing wider and wider with every morsel of favourite food. After supper, they lie on the couch and Terri gives Emma her real birthday present.

It's slow, it's sensual, and when Emma comes, she melts into the couch and into Terri's arms.

"Happy birthday, baby."

And every bad birthday Emma's had before seems to fade into the background.

**Fire**

Redheads are supposed to have tempers, but Terri hasn't seen hide nor hair of Emma's since she started paying attention to her back when Will started acting like an idiot.

However, she has seen Emma lose it several times, normally over a mess or something she can't control. While Terri is not touchy-feely and certainly not good at comforting, she found herself gathering Emma into her arms and rocking her, breathing into her hair and ears and kissing her face. It surprises Terri how she's changed, all because this woman just needs so goddamn much and so hard.

But one day, Terri's devil-may-care behaviour does push Emma over the edge, and Terri sees firsthand that Emma's temper is not restricted to freezing silences or clipped words.

"What the hell, Terri!" Emma's accent is stronger when she's angry, Terri notes in amusement, and files that away to later make fun of Emma. "I have asked you not to wear my shoes out. You scuff them up and then they're ruined!"

Since Terri discovered she was the same size as Emma, she's enjoyed wearing her shoes, despite Emma's numerous requests that she please not do that.

Terri is amused to find out that Emma actually means what she says. The woman's endless patience, apparently, ends with her shoes.

Emma's hands are clenched, her face turning red, her eyes snapping, and Terri leans over casually and plants a kiss right on Emma's clenched lips.

The redhead's eyes fly open in surprise and Terri grins. "Tastes like fire."

In response, Emma forcefully and deliberately kisses Terri back, making the blonde buckle against her, her legs no longer able to hold her up.

They have rough sex on the living room floor, normally something that's a no-no for Emma because of the potential germs and hell, she just doesn't like coming without a towel under her.

This time, she doesn't complain.

Terri gazes up at her afterwards, watching the afternoon light catch the chestnut-brown eyes and light up Emma's hair like fire.

"I love you," she suddenly whispers.

Emma kisses her, on her jaw, and ears, and hair, and eyebrows. "I love you, too."


End file.
